Hunting Blossom
by WickedySplit
Summary: Katniss and Peeta were never tributes for the 74th Hunger Games but that didn't stop them from being thrown together, where Peeta owes the Everdeens a debt that he is determine to repay. A story about Katniss, Peeta and Gale.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story on here, so please review giving me tips on how to improve it. This is set after the 74th Hunger Games which in this version Katniss and Peeta did not compete in. It's based around the relationship Katniss has with other characters had she not been apart of the Games, and what would happen if she met Peeta without the Games aswell.**

**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the Hunger Games.**

Hunting Blossom

The late afternoon sun filters through the colander of tree's above- leaving shadows dancing across Gales concentrating face. His hands work rhythmically with the rope for the snares, a skill I still haven't mastered up to his level. I sit against a tree trunk to the left of him, draining the last of my water; the wood is quieter now. We had stayed out longer than anticipated due to the abundance of game: 6 squirrels and 3 rabbits. We also picked strawberries and a variety of medical herbs. And I just felt free within the trees, like district 12 is a whispered nightmare. So I try to spend as much time as I can in the woods as it almost feels like my real home.

Basking in the sunlight my mind drifts off to the horrible topic which has been plaguing my thoughts all day: the annual 74th Hunger games ended a month ago today. Of course the district 12 tributes were some of the first to be killed. They were both from the Seam and could have easily been mistaken for brother and sister. I used to see the girl, Sara, round school. She was one year younger than me and could never afford to bring lunch to school with her. I had never seen the boy before he was reaped at the start of the summer- his name was Dray and he was the first to die. The Games were even more disturbing this year. What little I was forced to watch of them only succeeded in increasing my hatred towards the Capitol.

The growing fire within me is extinguished as I become absorbed in the shadows of Gale standing over me with his hand outstretched, "Ready to go?" I steal one last moment sat here- letting my anger seep out of me then reluctantly take his hand and stand as the wind blows strands of hair into my face. "I think we should trade 3 squirrels to the bakery, half of the strawberries to the mayor and split the rest between us." Gale states.

I nod and adjust my hunting bag on my back. Peering at the quickly setting sun I say "I'll go to the bakery and you can take the strawberries to the mayor, it's getting late."

"You sure?" he quires, his face framed by the burning sky. I know he doesn't like me going on trades alone but I hate that he feels he has to protect me when I have been protecting my family since I was 12.

"I can take care of myself without you having to look out for me" I retort, huffing as I lead the way out of the woods.

"Come on Catnip," Gale calls as he easily catches up with me, "you know I didn't mean to offend your obvious toughness." He teases which only increases my anger.

"Well my toughness has gotten me by so far hasn't it?" I shout.

I can hear his smile now, "And how many times have I saved you whilst we're hunting?" He's holding back hysterics now, which threatens to spill over at any moment. I narrow my eyes at his mocking of me and barge into his shoulder knocking him off balance. His surprised face sends me into fits of laughter which automatically lighten the mood of our conversation.

After recovering Gale playfully bows before me "Oh great Katniss, you are indeed the toughest of us in district 12" he mimics the posh voice of someone from the Capitol which only intensifies my laughter.

"I knew all along," I tell him between laughs. We both smile at each other savouring how happy and in control of our own lives we feel out here. "You can always be the second toughest though I'm pretty sure Rory is stiff competition." We relax and continue walking through the woods.

As I reach the fence I listen for the rare humming sound which means the electricity is on. When I hear nothing I turn around I take in one last sight of the majestic qualities the woods possesses and climb under the fence. When we get closer to town Gale and I split up, me wanting to go to the Seam so I could offload what we caught so mum could start cooking before I head to the Bakers whereas Gale wanted to go straight to the Mayors house.

"Bye Gale." I call over my shoulder as I turn the corner heading towards the Seam.

Walking the route home I notice how cool the evening breeze is for late summer. Then I walk past the house where Sara used to live. It seems lifeless even though I know she had two younger siblings. I pause and stare at the house for a while, lost with sorrow for her family and vengefulness towards the Capitol.

I come up to the door of my house and enter into the kitchen. It's dark with no candles lit. I know mum and Prim aren't home without looking through the rest of the house as it is has no warmth or presence. They are probably at Gale's house or with a patient.

I dump the rabbit (I let Gale have 2 as his family is bigger than mine), strawberries and herbs on the table. Then rearrange the three squirrels meant for trading in my hunting bag and leave the house empty again.

The sky is rapidly darkening as I head straight towards the bakery so increase my pace not wanting to be out here for long. As I reach the bakers back door I give it a tap, knowing the inhabitants may be asleep due to the late hour. To my surprise the baker's oldest son opens the door. His brow is knotted tightly and is dripping with sweat. He seems to recognise me and opens the door wider signalling me to follow as he charges back up the stairs to where they lived on top of the bakery. "They're upstairs!" he calls over his shoulder, leaving me in shock in the Mellarks open doorway. What is he on about?

I think about leaving and coming back tomorrow when an agonised scream pierces the silence. So I slam the door behind me and rush towards the sound. If only I had known the horrifying scene which awaited me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok so this chapter might be a little grusome in places, I don't know if that changes the rating or not? But I needed to put this chapter in. Please review and tell me what you think. **

The scream leads me up a wooden flight of stairs and to what I presume is a bedroom. Opening the door I immediately drop my game bag as I am flooded with a horrible scene. On the bed lay the Bakers middle son shaking violently, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. A grotesque gurgling sound comes from his open mouth and his father and brothers are desperately trying to pin him down as my mother is force feeding him some herbs. The smell is vile, like the boys internal organs are rotting inside of him mixed with vomit and bile that is sprayed on the floor and bed around him.

Prim pushes past me with a bucket of water which she soaks a cloth in and washes the thick layer or putrid sweat off the boy's contorted face. He is now releasing animalistic cries so gut wrenching I find myself backing away from the scene shaking my head as if I can pretend it's a nightmare. But it isn't. I feel dizzy within the room just as the boy coughs out blood and resumes crying out. My mother looks up and upon seeing me desperately beckons me over.

I stumble over, "Katniss, under my bed there is an oak drawer. Pull it out and take off the blue cloth covering it. Inside there is a white box… I need it." She gives me one last pleading look; her face freckled with blood, before I bolt away.

The cold night air slams into my clammy face as I charge out of the house. I sprint as fast as I can. Every time I blink I see him unwillingly scream. His screams, circling the dazed current of my head, continue to torture me as my lungs start to burn from running. I'm gasping for breath but I can't stop. My blistered feet shout in protest but I keep going. That boy, the middle son of the Baker, is going to die tonight if I stop running. I don't know what's wrong with him, I don't know if mum and Prim can save him, I don't even know his name! But, I am completely positive that he is not dying on account of me not running fast enough. I will not let that happen. Having to look at his mournful family, there merchant blue eyes full of tears for their loss focused on me for not getting the white box to my mother fast enough. No. That is not happening!

I shake the dizziness and fatigue away and keep pounding the pavements as I reach the outskirts of the Seam. The cramp in my side clawing at me- demanding attention- but I won't give in. My nose and eyes are running, the boy screams still repeat in my ear and my whole body protesting against my continuous sprint. But the screams keep me running.

As I reach the front door to my house my foot catches on the frame and I go flying. I hear a sickly ripping sound as something cuts into my leg then I collapse in a heap in the room. Pain shoots up my leg, searing and spiteful like the sharp blade of a sword. It gouges a scream from the pit of my stomach as I clutch at my bleeding leg, desperately trying to put out the flames I'm sure are burning me from the inside out.

I hear the boys screams repeat in my ear and desperately try to get up again, clutching the door frame for support. The fire steals another yelp of pain as I apply pressure to my foot which I immediately pick up again. I see the boy's family so scared and hopeless, as the fire rages on. My face creases with pain as I hobble towards my mum's bed. Every step adds to the inferno and I find myself shaking with effort.

When I reach her bed I throw myself on the floor. My hands stretch out to the drawer and cling on regardless of the sweat that tries to make them let go. Pulling the oak drawer towards me I grab the blue cloth and tie it round my leg- pretending its shades of blue are water extinguishing the fire. As I wrap it round blood seeps though turning my water into more fire.

I desperately start rummaging through the box of books, photos and clothes. Until I see a white corner sticking up through a ripped grey dress. Removing the dress I see a white box with pink blossom delicately painted round the edge. I wedge it under my arm and crawl out of the room, leaving a smeared red trail behind me.

Once I reach the doorway I yank myself up onto both feet, igniting a new round of vipers biting and torturing my pleading foot. Ignoring the intense pain I clumsily stumble back into the night.

The route back is confusing. Shadows merge into buildings creating a fuzzy and scary setting for the roads I walk every day. The screams keep repeating themselves but I am unsure if they are my imagination or coming from me as my whole leg now feels like it's been dunked in acid. The cold air now seems like arrows penetrating my vulnerable flesh from the darkness.

Once out of the seam I feel determination rising through me as I continue through the pain. My eyesight is blurry and I think I have lost a lot of blood.

Tears spill over my eyes as I finally reach the Bakers house, I don't know how long I've been gone but I made it. Suddenly I think about what if I'm to late? What if because I couldn't deal with my leg quick enough the boy has died? And that would be my fault. Spurred on by this I run the last couple of meters and throw open the door.

I look around confused until my eyes fall on the wooden stairs which I know I have to climb.

One step… two steps… three steps. The slow pace I am forced to move in makes me want to scream again but this time in rage against myself. Then finally I fall knowing I can't get back up. I've reached my limit. I lay there drained and motionless. Breathing seems to involve too much energy which I didn't have. I try to shout for them, to tell them I made it but nothing came out. All the stress of the day piles onto me as I begin to silently weep.

I feel two arms go around my waist; they are sweaty like mine but feel secure and safe. I look up and see two blue eyes clouded with tears and I know this is one of the sons.

I remove the white box from under my arm and push it towards him. I don't feel it leave my hand but I can no longer see it their.

He places me on the cold wooden floor and leaves me there as he runs to the room on my right, with a white box in his hands. Keeping my eyes open is a hard task but I'm aware that I have to so I move my attention to my leg. The once blue cloth is now a dark red/black colour and his dripping wet. I shakily remove it to unveil a deep jagged cut going all the way up my lower leg.

The smell of blood films my nose and I'm forced to vomit the whole content of my stomach out on the floor beside me. I wipe my mouth and soon the dizziness returns.

My body gives in and the seductive darkness takes over quickly. And the pain slips away.


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm burning. Fiery tongues singe my vulnerable flesh as I helplessly scream. No matter how far I run the flames don't stop, they only increase in spite. Its pitch black even though I know i am submerged in fire which should give off light. _

_The pain is encasing my entire being, unmercifully testing softer areas to see my reaction. I spasm to the ground when the burning reaches my face, sweat does little to put out the fire. I scream once more clutching to my hair. Suddenly the light intensifies and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out everything. My hands move to covering my face as another round of fire hits. The flames are clawing at my hands trying to make me remove them from my face. Then one covers my mouth trying to stifle my cries. My foot flares out and comes into contacts with something solid and not on fire…_

I bolt upright, panting hard. Just a dream, it was just a dream.

My hands are still covering my face until I unwillingly remove then, squinting through the harsh light. As the sun hits me so does the memories of last night- was that also part of the dream. I automatically reach for my leg which is bandaged in torn cloth. Prodding it curiously I feel a wave of pain overtake me so I fall backwards and bite down on my long braid to muffle my yelp. Before closing my eyes I catch site of the youngest sun clutching his stomach beside me, I want to help but I unconsciously drift back to another restless sleep.

When I awake again I am met by those same stark blue eyes that I had witnessed the night before. I automatically flinch away from how close they are to me only to hit my head on the wall a few inches behind me. His hands spur to help then drop mid air when he see's me pushing myself further against the wall, he continuous to stare for a few more seconds before dropping his gaze to my wounded leg. Feeling guarded I clasp my leg to my torso, gnawing on my lip to hide the pain this action causes me. The taste of salty blood fills my mouth as I break the skin of my lips.

The boy jumps up, startling me, and enters a room opposite. Moments later he returns with a damp cloth and kneels down in front of me. Hesitantly he leans forward- cloth in hand- giving me plenty of time to back away from him. I don't and he slowly brings it the cloth to my lips mopping away all the traces of blood and cooling the small stinging sensation there.

Slowly he removes the cloth from my face. His enclosed fingers accidently brush against my cheek leaving a small tingling feeling there, they linger on my face for only a second before the heat of his touch disperses through my skin. I involuntary miss his touch which confuses me even more in my already dazed morning state. Then he sits back on his haunches contempt to wait for me to speak.

I recognise his face as the youngest of the baker's sons. He had striking blue eyes, a strong nose and pale parted lips. The top of his face was framed by messy blond curls and there was the hint of a bruise shadowed across his neck.

Without think I reach out to stroke his bruise, just wanting to touch him again. He jumps at my sudden movement but doesn't retreat or object. As I make contact with his neck he shivers under my light touch. I suddenly come to my senses and quickly remove my hand and look to the floor completely embarrassed.

When I look up again he is still staring at me, confusion in his rich blue eyes. Other emotions I cannot decipher cross his face and I automatically feel bad and ashamed for forwardly caressing his neck. Heat flushes my face and I am forced to look down again.

"Uh... sorry," I stutter. My voice sounds unfamiliar and small.

He just shakes his head and pushes off the floor to slowly rise. Obviously he thought I was weird and just wanted to get away from me.

It is only then I realise I am still in the baker's hall, patches of the floor are stained blood red which are scattered around me and I begin to feel dizzy again slowly remembering the horrors of last night.

Did the middle son make it? Did I retrieve what mum needed quick enough? Has he died because of me? Is that why the other son couldn't speak to me? Do they all hate me?

Suddenly my mother crouches in front of me. "How are you feeling?" she asks.

I bat away her concern questioning her "is he… um… did he…?" I don't know how to state it, but I don't want to shout it out encase the family can hear me.

"He is alive, but still not better," she sighs and the creases on her already worried forehead intensify, "I do believe he is making progress but his body is so drained he will need checking up on daily."

To see my mum, who usually doesn't let emotions interfere with helping a patient, so worried - scares me. I still let out a sigh of relief; at least he can now start recovering. I believe if he was as malnourished as someone from the Seam his body wouldn't have survived such an intense exertion of energy. But, being the son of a merchant he was well fed and more healthy then most of the district twelve's inhabitants.

"Now," my mum said drawing attention back to my leg, "how are you feeling?"

She cautiously examined me, always careful and aware of my constant flinching where her fingers came into contact with the damaged tissue beneath the bandages. "As long as we stop any infection setting in we won't have to do anything drastic." The word "drastic" hangs in the air between us. Does she mean not being able to walk again? I automatically run through the worse case scenario: if I can't walk I can't hunt. If I can't hunt I can't provide for my family. I can't provide for my family they die. I can't, won't let anything happen to Prim! I keep repeating to myself.

My mums voice snaps me out of my conscious nightmare "you will need stitches but I need to properly treat the wound first which I can't do here, I will need to get you home and soon." She pauses considering the pain I am in, "I doubt you can walk home but I can help support your weight."

"I will be fine." I don't like people fussing over me. Especially whilst I was in a house with someone who was in a far worse state then I am. I don't want to become dependant on my mum either so I find it hard to follow her judgement sometimes.

As I push myself against the wall- trying to stand- the youngest son appears from an open doorway. I skilfully mask my face as I slowly rise until I'm upright. My head feels dizzy but I steady myself against the cool solid wall.

Bashing away mums flapping hand I timidly apply pressure to my foot. Pain shoots up my leg but it isn't unbearable. Encouraged by this I take a step only for my foot to be fully encased in flames once more. I fall backwards awaiting the contact to the harsh floor.

Warm arms, arms that I recognise, catch me then securely wrap around my waste lifting me off the floor releasing any pressure off of my foot. I go stiff, being so close to a boy is unusual for me and I find myself frozen and unsure on how to react.

I hate that he feel he has to help me but I know if I make him release me I will only crash to the ground, looking more pitiful and helpless than I already do. He slowly brings me to his chest, almost cradling me like I'm extremely delicate and breakable- which I'm not. I feel my cheeks flush as I see the stunned look in my mum's eyes.

"Thank you Peeta," his name shooting into my memory of the day he saved me and my family. The blush deepens and I now felt even worse for him once again helping me. "I can get her home now." My mum smiles at him but he doesn't put me down.

"Don't worry ," Peeta says. It's the first time I've heard his voice and it sounds warm and safe much life his gentle holding on me. "I can get Katniss home, it's the least I can do for you."

Without waiting for a reply he heads down the stairs. "I am taking Katniss home" he shouts to his family. His mother comes bounding out a room; her eyes are puffy and sad, when she sees my mum though they change to spite as she started to intimidating stare my mum down.

"Come on Sarah" Peeta's dad comes up behind her and slowly pulls her back into the room. He beckons my mum into the room opposite where I guess the sick son is. Mum nods for Peeta to continue and follows his dad into the room.

Peeta starts descending the stairs once more, trying his best to be as steady as possible. As we left I could hear mum speaking but she was hardly audible over Peeta's heart beating so closely to my ear.

He carries me in silence for a long time before releasing a ragged breathes. I squirm in his arms suddenly thinking I could be too heavy for him. This only causes him to tighten his grip and then look down quizzically at me.

"You ok?" he asks, the sun glinting off the white of his eyes which only intensified the blue in his irises.

"I just thought I might be getting heavy for you." I say quickly, "you honestly don't have to carry me; I'm fine to walk now I promise." I can tell my façade doesn't fool him so he refuses to put me down and continues to walk as we enter the Seam.

He suddenly stares down at me again, "Thank you." He states, a serious look dominating his face.

I become confused. Thanks for what? If anything I should be thanking him for carrying me home and treating my lip. He soon answers my confused expression "you brought that box back last night," he stops for a second as recognition enters my eyes, "you kept going even when you were hurt. You helped to save him… thank you Katniss."

I reply with a small smile. This some how cause him to blush and look away from my eyes. I follow his gaze to see we were outside my house. How did he know where I lived? Before I could question him I see Gale perched nervously on the door step. As our eyes meet he jumps up and storms over to me (still in Peeta's arms).

"What is going on?" he asks, angry almost. He is glaring at Peeta's arms wrapped around me so protectively.

Before Peeta can answer I say "I just hurt my leg." It didn't really answer why Peeta was the one carrying me but I was still so drained I didn't care.

Peeta awkwardly sways for a moment realising that Gale didn't plan on moving to let him past. "I can take it from here." He says before prying me from Peeta's arms. I almost feel him try and hold onto me for a second before letting go.

Without saying anything Gale turns and walks towards the house leaving Peeta in front of it. I twist in his arms and crane my neck around him until I can see Peeta's face again, his blonde hair drooping in front oh is eyes. "Thank you" I mouth as I am carried into the house. The last thing I see is a smile overtaking Peeta's expression before I am inside my home.

**Thank you if you're reading my story, I really want help to improve it as well. Especially the flow of the story which I know isn't great right now, if you have any critques I'm up for taking them on board and improving them. Thanks again. :)**


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